


your own body to deal with

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Closeted Character, Emotionally Repressed, Friends to Lovers, High School, M/M, Pre-Canon, Repressed Memories, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: “To be fair, I would’ve been your friend if you’d ever asked,” Jack laughs and Sammy purposefully schools his expression into one of confusion.“What are you talking about, Jack,” Sammy says, deadpan as can be. “We met two years ago. At the radio station.”“Oh, of course, how could I forget,” Jack shakes his head with a chuckle. “We didn’t go to high school anywhere near one another. We definitely didn’t share a chemistry class.”“You two are ridiculous,” Lily snorts. “I’m going to sleep. Have fun repressing high school all the way there.”





	your own body to deal with

**Author's Note:**

> This fic can be alternatively titled 'peak stupidity and repression' because that's what it is. Mostly unedited but I absolutely loved this idea so you get to experience it with me. Thanks for reading, drop a comment if you like it!

**September 2000**

“So, um, football.”

Sammy’s stammering. He feels like he’s not in his body right now, that he’s watching himself from above, not able to control anything that happens or how Jack Wright is looking at him right now with an actual genuine smile on his face.

Sammy hadn’t realized until Leanne told him to go get a comment from Jack Wright about last night’s football game and take his picture that the guy he’d stared at so much in chemistry class that he’d almost failed was named Jack Wright. And he was better looking this year, wavy hair and dimples and square-framed glasses.

And Sammy has to take a fucking _comment_ from him for the sports section of the school newspaper, which isn’t even supposed to be his responsibility to begin with but Logan has mono and so Jack’s actually the third football player Sammy’s had to talk to this month, and he just wants to make it through his senior year without completely embarrassing himself and having to make intelligent conversation with Jack Wright isn’t going to help.

Sammy wants to _die._

“Yeah,” Jack smiles at him, and it seems so real, and Sammy thinks he might fall down the staircase he’s half leaning against. The halls are emptying out, classes over for the day but most extracurricular activities still haven’t started. “Football. So, like, what am I supposed to say?”

“I, uh, whatever you want,” Sammy says, hoping he’s not blushing. “Something about the game on Friday that we can put in the school paper.”

“Like, about me specifically, or the team…?” Jack asks, and Sammy wishes he was any version of articulate right now.

“Whatever,” Sammy says, staring down at his notepad and hoping that’ll help him feel less awkward. “Sorry, this isn’t usually my job.”

“What’s your job?” Jack asks, his voice all genuine curiosity. He’s got a scar on the side of his face, Sammy notices, just a pink line running down his temple. He hadn’t taken note of that in chemistry class, but that had been a lot of surreptitious glances to the back of Jack’s head more than anything.

“Opinions editor, mostly,” Sammy says, knowing full well he’s turning red now and looking steadfastly at a spot behind Jack’s head.

“Cool,” Jack says, and sounds like he actually means it. “Do you follow football at all?”

“Oh, uh, no,” Sammy says, and he thinks his hand may have started shaking but he isn’t sure and doesn’t want to look down and confirm it. “Not – not at all, I couldn’t tell you if you guys won or lost on Friday.”

He winces a bit at his candidness, but Jack just laughs, wide and open-mouthed and Sammy really, really wishes that he would’ve gotten shoved down the staircase for his smart mouth instead because it would have been less painful.

“We won, just so you know,” Jack says, all white teeth and wavy hair, and Sammy thinks no guy in high school has the right to look like a movie star already. “Uh, I guess my comment is that it was a great game, mad respect to the Cavaliers for being such great opponents, and we’re gonna crush it again on Friday? Is that enough stereotypical football player shit for you?”

Sammy finds himself laughing now, Jack surprising it out of him. “Should I include the _stereotypical football player shit_ within the comment or leave it out?”

Jack makes a face. “Better leave it out. Someone on the team will get pissed at me.”

“Do football players even read the school newspaper, though?” Sammy says, thinking that he can at least try to be as funny and clever as Jack so clearly is, and it seems like maybe their sense of humor is more aligned than what Sammy would expect.

“Good point,” Jack grins. “But you’d probably have to censor _shit_ anyway and I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I appreciate the concern,” Sammy says, relieved to not feel the hot rush of blood to his face this time. He slowly pencils down the first part of Jack’s comment before saying “Uh, can I get a picture of you?”

He holds up the camera he’s got slung around his neck, which Leanne told him he had to return in one piece on pain of death.

“Sure,” Jack says, and Sammy holds up the camera to snap. Sammy doesn’t need to check the reel to know it looks great.

“The piece will run on Thursday before this week’s game, we’ve got a different football player every week,” Sammy explains and Jack nods along with him. “I mean, I know football players don’t read the school paper, but…”

Jack laughs. “Well, I do. Don’t let the football façade fool you, I promise I pick up a copy every week.”

“I’m sure we make excellent nighttime reading,” Sammy tries to joke, then feels a hot rush of adrenaline at making a comment that has anything to do with Jack and nighttime, but thankfully, Jack just laughs again. “Well, uh, thanks. I’ll catch you later.”

Sammy turns, knowing perfectly well that he’ll probably duck and run if he ever sees Jack in the hallway, but he’s stopped by Jack saying “Hey, Sammy?”

Sammy turns back. He didn’t know that Jack knew his name.

“Yeah?” Sammy says, hoping he sounds casual but feeling kind of stupid.

“I’ll see you at Brian’s party on Friday, right?” Jack asks and Sammy shakes his head. “Oh – he’s on the paper, I thought maybe you’d be friends with him.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t really get invited to that kind of thing,” Sammy says, feeling like the worst kind of idiotic loser.

Jack just says “Oh, it’s not really an invitation thing, you can just show up. I mean – it’s Brian. But you’re invited now anyway, yeah?”

“Uh,” Sammy says very intelligently.

“By me,” Jack says slowly, but his grin remains in place. “See you then?”

“Uh, yeah, maybe,” Sammy says, shoving his free hand in the pocket of his hoodie. “Yeah, that’d – that’d be cool, Jack.”

**March 2007**

“Got road trip food,” Jack says through a mouthful of donut. Sammy makes a face at him as he gets into the driver’s seat and shoves two grocery bags in Sammy’s direction.

“Here’s your gross sunflower seeds,” Sammy hands Jack the package and Jack grins at him with mashed up powdered donut in his mouth. “You’ve got something in your teeth, jackass.”

Jack swallows the donut with a laugh as Sammy paws through the rest of the food. Jack pulls the car out of the parking lot of the convenience store just outside of town.

“Aw, you got me sour gummy worms,” Sammy makes a pleased noise when he finds them at the bottom of the bag.

“Because you’ll bitch about it forever if he doesn’t,” Lily says, poking her head between them from the backseat to rummage through the bag herself. Sammy tries to shove her back but she digs her elbow into his shoulder. “I just want the bugels.”

“Why do you care, you’ll be asleep in ten minutes anyway,” Jack says, always the logical one. Lily only deigns to sit in the backseat because she’ll stretch out and nap for the whole trip.

“I can eat before then,” Lily says, and pulls back when she finds the bag of bugels but not without elbowing Sammy’s neck in the process and Sammy makes a pitiful noise to show how much pain he’s in.

“Grow up, Stevens,” Lily says as she settles back in her seat. Jack, at least, gives Sammy a sympathetic look. “You’re gonna go hang with the football stars, the least you can do is _pretend_ you can take a hit.”

“I wouldn’t call them _stars,_ have any of them even left suburbia?” Sammy asks and Jack makes an offended noise. “Other than you, Jack.”

“I think Luke’s coming from Tallahassee,” Jack admits with a roll of his eyes. “That about covers it. The ones who went to college came back afterwards, and a lot of them never left to begin with. But even I haven’t made it that far, I mean, it’s a two hour drive home…”

“Emotionally, you’ve made it leagues and bounds,” Lily pats Jack’s shoulder, half complimentary and half condescending, as is her way. “I mean, how much did they even have to bribe you to come for the reunion?”

“There was no bribery!” Jack justifies, shoulders drawing together a bit defensively. “Just a lot of nagging.”

“On your part as well,” Lily says. “I wouldn’t have come along without some begging. I’m so glad I went to a private school.”

“That just means you weren’t socialized like the rest of society,” Jack rolls his eyes and Lily yawns over-dramatically in response.

“I make up for my all girls’ Catholic school experience by working with you two clowns,” Lily says. “Public school cretins. When’s the last time you had a high school reunion with your buddies on the paper, Sammy?”

“I didn’t have those, so,” Sammy says in response and Jack laughs. “Wasn’t like Mr. Popular here.”

He punches Jack’s shoulder and Jack sticks his tongue out at him.

“To be fair, I would’ve been your friend if you’d ever asked,” Jack laughs and Sammy purposefully schools his expression into one of confusion.

“What are you talking about, Jack,” Sammy says, deadpan as can be. “We met two years ago. At the radio station.”

“Oh, of course, _how_ could I forget,” Jack shakes his head with a chuckle. “We didn’t go to high school _anywhere_ near one another. We definitely didn’t _share a chemistry class_.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Lily snorts. “I’m going to sleep. Have fun repressing high school all the way there.”

Sammy tries not to blush, and wishes Lily were still going to be a part of the conversation to detract attention away from himself.

Back when he’d met Jack at the radio station, it had taken them, together, two weeks to figure out they’d gone to high school together. About ten minutes after realizing that, Sammy realized that Jack had been the back of the head that Sammy had spent all of his junior year staring at chemistry.

It’s truly one of his most embarrassing memories, and he’s still trying to block it out of entering into conscious thought at every opportunity.

Jack’s his best friend, and Sammy should be able to have a friend without having a debilitating crush on him that goes back more years than it has any right to.

“I don’t think I know _anyone_ on the football team’s name,” Sammy declares to Jack before Jack can decide on the topic. “So I highly doubt they’ll remember me.”

“Oh, you’re not going as a highly esteemed graduate of Watkins High,” Lily yawns from the backseat. “You’re going as my new boyfriend so none of the gross athletes stuck in the stone ages and dead end jobs don’t grab my ass at the bar. Got it, Stevens?”

“Don’t I get a say?” Sammy asks, and Lily promptly says “No.”

Jack laughs, and Sammy thinks he imagines him hunch his shoulders together again as if bracing for something.

**September 2000**

Sammy’s had half a beer, talked to the three people at this party that he recognizes, and is now hanging against the back wall of the crowded basement, on the fringe of a conversation without really being a part of it.

He doesn’t know why he decided to come here tonight. He really shouldn’t have. He should’ve gone to iHop like he usually does on Friday nights to do homework, not be at his parents’ house, and wish he was anyone but himself.

But he came here because Jack had invited him, and even though Sammy hates himself for it, he can get a high of adrenaline off of five seconds spent talking to Jack, and figured that he’d probably never get it again so this party is a good enough place.

Still, he hasn’t caught a glimpse of Jack yet through the haze of football players, cheerleaders, other athletes, and the occasional paper or theatre student, since this is Brian’s party and he’s one of the few people in school who belongs to more than one social group.

Sammy finishes his beer and gets another by the time he sees Jack, standing next to the staircase, a white v-neck and black hoodie on, his hair messy with sweat, and Sammy almost wishes he’d gone to the football game, which is a very stupid thing to wish.

Sammy knows he’s not going to go over, and pretends he doesn’t notice Jack. Still, he steals a couple glances of Jack laughing with someone he’s talking to, and Sammy knows it’s idiotic, but he thinks Jack’s not laughing as much as he did when he’d talked to Sammy.

Their eyes catch maybe ten minutes later and Jack beams, which is the exact wrong thing for him to do, because it makes Sammy feel like his traitorous mind might have a point.

Jack brushes through the crowd, stumbling a couple times before he gets to Sammy. “Hey, dude! You came, awesome! You having fun?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sammy says even though he definitely isn’t. “There’s….a lot of people here.”

“There’s no one Brian isn’t friends with, I swear,” Jack laughs with a casual roll of his eyes that’s still affectionate. “I was gonna brave the crowds to grab another beer if you wanted to come with.”

“Yeah,” Sammy says, his brain only half-working right now, and he follows Jack, letting him push through the throngs of football players that Sammy would never go near if he had the choice.

He hears something crash upstairs and he and Jack turn to each other with a wince.

“I guess this party’s crazier than I thought,” Jack says with a bit of a nervous laugh as he steals a couple beers off of the table where everything’s set up, cracking one open before handing it to Sammy.

“Roger knocked over the fridge! I think it’s broken!” Someone shouts down the stairs, their voice half-serious and half-laughing.

“That was pretty loud,” Sammy says and Jack sighs.

“Roger’s such a fuckhead,” Jack says. “Not that anyone on the football team _isn’t_ –”

“You’re not,” Sammy finds himself saying. He hates himself immediately, blaming the alcohol and immediately taking a long swig from the new bottle Jack just handed him.

Jack grins. He shouldn’t be able to be unfazed by all the stupid things that come out of Sammy’s mouth around him, but somehow he is. “I appreciate it. I moved here sophomore year from California, and it feels like I was on the football team before I even realized it, and suddenly I had all these meathead friends.”

“Wow, California,” Sammy says, as if Jack couldn’t get more unattainably perfect. “How’d you end up here?”

Jack shrugs. “My dad’s job, I guess. I don’t know. I wasn’t a big fan of the move.”

“No one would be, I can’t imagine coming from California to this shithole,” Sammy says, his inhibitions clearly lowered, and Jack laughs at him.

“It’s not so bad,” Jack shrugs.

“I’d do anything to get out of here,” Sammy says, a bit too earnest for someone talking to a basically a stranger.

Jack looks as if he’s about to say something too, the lines around his eyes softening, but then someone yells down the stairs again “Guys, get the fuck out! My parents are getting home early!”

“Oh,” Jack says instead, as the room around them half breaks into a rush for the stairs and half laughs Brian off while ignoring him and continuing to drnk. He seems to move in slow motion, though as he turns to Sammy. “Well, shit. Don’t wanna piss off Brian like I’m sure half the team will. Better get out of here. I didn’t drive here, I gotta catch the bus home. What about you?”

“I took the bus, too,” Sammy unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “The stop on Clairmont?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack says, looking a little relieved, though maybe Sammy’s imagining that. “Let’s get out of here before any parents show up. Hopefully Brian can talk everyone into getting out of here, though it doesn’t seem likely.”

“I don’t think the meatheads are great at listening,” Sammy agrees, heart almost beating of his chest when Jack laughs, wide and open-mouthed again.

**March 2007**

Jack is enveloped in a cloud of cologne and sweat from the second they get to the bar.

“Wright!” A guy with a potbelly slaps Jack on the back. He already looks forty instead of twenty-five. “Dude! How’s it _been!_ ”

“Fine,” Jack says, and Sammy recognizes his uncomfortable voice and wishes he could step in, but Lily’s got a claw-like grip on his arm. “How’ve you been, Paul?”

“Oh, can’t complain,” Paul says and as the group of former athletes all start clapping Jack on the back and try to engage him in conversation, he turns to Lily and Sammy with an appreciative once-over for Lily.

“And who’s this sexy thing?” Paul pulls Jack back in his direction, an arm slung over his shoulder.

“His sister,” Lily answers for Jack with a flat tone.

“Sweet sister,” Paul practically leers and Lily digs her fingernails into Sammy’s skin, and he knows what that means.

“I’m, uh,” Sammy clears his throat and tries not to throw up, “her boyfriend. Sammy. Nice to…meet you.”

Jack exaggeratedly winces at Sammy while Paul isn’t looking at him. Sammy almost laughs but has to school his expression into a serious one where him dating Lily exists within the realm of possibility.

Paul just gives Sammy a challenging look before turning away, which Sammy supposes is how straight guys interact. He’s never understood that, and settles for letting Jack lead them around to all of his old high school buddies and _introduce_ them, despite the fact that Sammy knows he recognizes at least a quarter of the guys.

He should recognize more, but he wasn’t exactly paying attention to football in high school. He doesn’t think he ever went to a game. He thinks he might’ve had to interview a couple of them once – but he isn’t really sure why. He never did sports reporting when he was on the school paper, he would’ve faked sick or even death to avoid that.

Sammy feels exceptionally out of place among them, and becomes grateful for Lily’s vicelike grip, which protects him from having to partake in too much unneeded social interaction with some college dropouts.

“You work at a radio station, right?” One of the guys is saying to Jack. “Dude, I’ll have to tune in.”

“You should!” Jack says, and looks a bit more comfortable now that the subject has been changed from where all the sexy cheerleaders ended up after high school. “It’s going well, we’re in talks to get nationally syndicated –”

“Mr. College Degree using all his big words,” one of the other guys, Leon, Sammy thinks, shoves Jack’s shoulder, but does so laughingly.

“And you guys are on the radio with him?” The other guy turns to Sammy and Lily with a genuinely curious look on his face. Most of the guys ignore them the moment they realize Lily’s not here to hook up with them and fulfill their wildest fantasies. “That’s so cool!”

“Yeah, we make do,” Lily says, though she’s genuinely smiling now.

“What was your name again?” Sammy asks the guy. He seems familiar in a way the other guys don’t.

“Oh, I’m Brian,” the guy reaches past Jack to shake Sammy’s hand. “What was your name? You look familiar…”

“Uh, Sammy,” Sammy says, feeling himself shrink a little into his skin. He really hopes no one here catches onto the fact that he graduated with a lot of these guys.

“Brian was on the school paper,” Jack says meaningfully over Sammy, and Sammy nods, remembering the guy, maybe one of the most popular guys in school.

“Yeah, I work for the newspaper here in town now,” Brian says with enthusiasm. “Though of course that won’t stop these guys from forgetting –”

“That time you and Roger got in a game of beer pong so intense you broke the fridge?” Another guy guffaws.

Sammy frowns. There’s something nagging and familiar about that. But he didn’t really _go_ to parties in high school, except that one time that he doesn’t really –

“I think I was at that party,” Jack says slowly and Sammy isn’t sure why his mouth suddenly tastes like copper. “Didn’t we have to leave early because your parents –”

Sammy realizes it at the exact same second Jack does. He can see it in Jack’s eyes, the way they widen almost comically, and Sammy knows his own eyes are a reflection as his mouth falls open and he finds breathing more difficult by the second.

“Holy shit,” Jack breathes, looking right at Sammy. Sammy wishes he could read any emotion there other than complete and total _shock._

“What?” Brian asks, innocuous. Lily elbows Sammy’s stomach.

“What is it?” Lily asks, a little sharper, but her voice grows more concerned when neither of them respond. “Seriously, what’s the matter?”

**September 2000**

“You’re really different, Jack,” Sammy’s laughing at Jack as they stand waiting for the bus. They lagged behind anyone else who left the party when Brian begged everyone to leave one by one, so they’re the only ones standing here in the warm fall evening.

It feels like a space of not quite reality, where things are possible that aren’t somewhere else, which is the only reason Sammy’s saying anything at all.

“My natural charm,” Jack winks at him, laughing. “It’s what I subsist on.”

“Something like that,” Sammy shakes his head. “Breaking stereotypes about football players every day.”

“It’s my civic duty,” Jack says as he cracks up. “You’re pretty different, too, Sammy. I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Why am I different?” Sammy asks, and he isn’t scared of the answer.

“I dunno,” Jack says, cocking his head. The streetlamp next to them lights him up. Like a statue or something. He’s picturesque. It’s easy to see the scar down the side of his cheek. It only makes him more handsome, somehow. 

Sammy’s not thinking straight. He’s not that drunk, but it feels like he’s floating. “You just are. Don’t worry, it’s a good thing.”

“Not really according to the rest of the world,” Sammy says and Jack makes a waving motion with his hand.

“Who gives a fuck,” Jack says. “You’re – you know. Unique. That’s the important thing.”

“You don’t know me at all,” Sammy points out, even as he feels affection for Jack in every part of his body.

Jack shrugs. “I don’t have to know you to know that. It’s just – you can tell, you know? That you’re really gonna be something someday.”

“I – literally no one’s ever said that to me,” Sammy says, floored and disbelieving all at once. “I mean – I could say the same about you, but –”

“Thanks, dude,” Jack says, his smile crooked, and he’s standing closer to Sammy than Sammy remembered.

”Jack -,” Sammy tries to say, and his voice comes out strangled. Jack doesn’t seem to mind. He seems even closer. 

He looks in Jack’s eye, intending for it just to be for a second, but their gazes lock and Sammy can’t look away. He’d be embarrassed and paranoid except for the fact that Jack doesn’t look away either.

It makes him feel brave. Like anything is possible, right now, between the two of them. 

They stand like that for a second, a minute, Sammy doesn’t know. He does know when he realizes what’s about to happen, though. It’s a second before it does. He and Jack are so close together, it isn’t difficult to lean the rest of the way forward.

They kiss. For half a second.

Sammy feels like he’s dreaming, like this moment can’t possibly be real.

Then it’s a second. Then it’s more. Then –

**March 2007**

Jack and Sammy don’t look at each other for the whole drive home.

They were meant to spend the night at Jack and Lily’s parents place that night, but Jack starts driving home after he quickly makes every excuse imaginable to get out of that crowded bar. Lily, annoyed, calls their parents, but after that she’s incessant and irritating and if Sammy didn’t have to ask Jack to pull over to do it, he’d probably throw up on the side of the road.

“What the actual fuck,” Lily says after more than an hour of pestering. “This is horrific.”

Neither Jack nor Sammy answer. Even though they haven’t spoken, it’s as if they’ve come to an agreement anyway that not a word of this can be shared with Lily or she’d never shut up about it.

Jack and Sammy don’t make eye contact until Jack drops Sammy off at his apartment well past midnight, and at least it’s apologetic. Sammy grimaces at him before getting out of the car, going up to his apartment, and downing all the alcohol he can find, hoping he’ll forget this ever happened like he did the first time.

He can’t, though. He knew that once that particular box was opened, it wasn’t going to shut.

Sammy and Jack start talking, slowly, on Monday at work, but it’s only work talk and nothing else. Lily looks like she wants to murder them for the entire show, and three different people at the station ask if there’s something wrong.

Sammy previously thought there had been an unspoken rule about not bringing up personal shit on air, but then a week into the mess, she says, live on the radio “So I know you folks are wondering what the hell the deal is with my two esteemed cohosts, and you know, I have the same question.”

“Lily,” Sammy says, slow and soft, a clear warning, but Lily bulldozes on.

“They haven’t talked outside the show for a _full week_ ,” Lily says into the microphone with utmost gravitas and Sammy thinks he’s going to be sick. “Dear listeners, I don’t know what the matter is and am absolutely failing to get them to talk about it. Maybe you can give it a whirl. Give us a call at –”

“Folks, we’re taking a quick break,” Jack says, sharp and angry, overriding Lily to press the button to start a commercial break. He throws his headphones off as he glares at Lily. “This is none of your fucking business.”

“Obviously it is, because it’s affecting our show!” Lily says as if it’s obvious. “The two of you need to get over yourselves. Honestly, you’ve never shut up for a single second since you’ve met, always all over each other, this is the only fight you’ve ever had! And I don’t even know what it’s about! I’ve gleaned that it was something about high school – what, did the football team beat you up, Stevens?”

“Shut up,” Sammy groans, rubbing his temple. “We’re not fighting.”

“News to me!” Lily says with an almost violent roll of her eyes. “Come on, work through your shit, it’s not that difficult! Usually I feel like I have to hose you two down you’re such _lovebirds_ when we’re off the air–”

Jack glances at Sammy, half resigned, half helpless, and then looks back up at the ceiling.

Sammy drops his voice to a very tight, very low whisper, and barely understands that he’s going to tell her until he does.

“Jack and I made out in high school,” Sammy says, and Lily’s jaw drops.

“Like –”

“Like we made out,” Sammy says, trying to make sure his voice doesn’t shake. “At a party.”

“How’d you not realize this _years_ ago –”

Sammy doesn’t have an answer to that. He thinks that, at least for him, it’s a combination of repression, alcohol, and an idealization of Jack that would make him think he’d have to have imagined something like that happening to him, that it couldn’t be real life.

“Don’t know,” Jack says, summing up Sammy’s thoughts entirely. Lily turns to him with raised, disbelieving eyebrows.

“So, let me lay this out, you both remembered this party where you sucked face,” Lily says and Jack snaps a quick _keep your voice down_ that she ignores. “And then you spent a week _not talking about it_?”

Sammy stares the floor. Jack doesn’t respond, either.

“Oh my God,” Lily says faintly. “You realize there’s an easy solution for this, right? And it’s _have a fucking conversation._ Dear God. I hate men.”

**September 2000**

– and then there’s the sound of a crashing beer bottle down the street and the yells of “Dude! Dude! Get off that car!”

Sammy breaks away from Jack as fast as he possibly can, their teeth knocking against each other as they spring apart. Jack looks as terrified as Sammy feels from the other side of the bus stop, licking his lips and hunching his shoulders together. It makes him look smaller.

Five other guys and two girls are at the bus stop waiting with them in the next minute, all of them drunk enough to be obnoxious but also drunk enough that they hadn’t seen anything that could ruin Sammy’s life. Ruin Jack’s life.

Sammy and Jack don’t sit together when the bus gets there. Sammy heads straight to the back, steamrolling past where Jack’s sitting in the middle, not even giving himself the chance.

Jack gets off the bus first. He doesn’t look back at Sammy.

By Monday morning, Sammy’s convinced himself that he imagined the kiss, that he left the party and dreamed it when he got home. It’s hazy in his memory already, and it’s only cemented when he sees Jack in the hallway and Jack doesn’t look at him.

Of course it wasn’t real. It would never be. And why would Sammy be that fucking stupid anyway, kissing a guy at a bus stop of all places, where anyone could see him? He’d never do that. That’s so completely not him.

He’s supposed to get through the last hellish year of high school, make it to college, and that’s what he does.

He doesn’t think about Jack Wright again until he meets his new producer outside of a radio station studio, only the second place to hire him after he graduates college.

He says _wow, I didn’t know anyone wanted to be a producer_ , to distract himself from the fact that Jack was the most handsome guy he’d seen in his life, thought about how the name Jack Wright seemed kind of, a little bit, maybe familiar.

**March 2007**

The show ends without Lily bringing it up on air again, and it’s only when they’re out of the recording booth that Jack and Sammy finally meet eyes again, Jack sighing with a look in his eyes Sammy can’t entirely read, but at least it looks sympathetic.

“Can I give you a ride home?” Jack says quietly to Sammy so no one else including Lily can hear as they pack their stuff up for the day.

“My car’s here,” Sammy points out.

“It can stay here overnight- I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Jack says. “Might be good to have an excuse to immediately have to be alone together after – whatever this conversation is gonna be.”

“Good plan as always,” Sammy says, trying his best to give Jack his most tired smile. This week has easily been one of the most exhausting he’s had in his life.

Lily gives them an approving nod when they leave together which Sammy steadfastly ignores.

He and Jack don’t speak during the ten minute drive to Sammy’s apartment, but they look at each other a few times, and Sammy thinks there’s reassurance there.

It’s only when Jack parks in the lot next to Sammy’s building and turns the car off that he finally speaks.

“I’m sorry,” Jack says, sounding far too miserable for Sammy to take.

“Me too,” Sammy says, finding himself unable to swallow he’s so nervous. “I – we should’ve talked. Before now. It was stupid to ignore it.”

“Yeah,” Jack says, biting his lip. “Sorry about that. But also about – well – kissing you in high school. God, that was stupid of me.”

“Oh,” Sammy says, and it feels like all of the air is taken out of his chest.

“Not – shit, not like that,” Jack says, his laugh high and nervous. “Sorry about that too, I guess.”

“No, no, I get it,” Sammy says, because when he thinks about it for longer than a kneejerk reaction, he really does. “I mean – this is maybe the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me, so…”

“Oh, God, same here,” Jack says, his voice sounding half ordinary as he laughs. “I can’t believe we did that. I mean – I can’t believe it happened at all, let alone that it happened with _you_ of all people and it took us this long to realize it. I mean – you’re my best friend. The best friend I’ve ever had.”

“What are the chances?” Sammy says, helplessness leaking into his laugh. “Us remeeting all those years later?”

“Hey, let’s not,” Jack says with a wince. “Let’s just – we met two years ago in the radio station. Like you said on the drive up. Who we were in high school – I mean, it barely counts as us. It’s not us, really. We didn’t even _know_.”

“You’re right,” Sammy says, even though it makes his chest tighten. “I mean, high schoolers barely count as human beings, so…”

Jack laughs, and it feels as if tension has bled out of the car the air is finally moving again.

“Nothing’s changed,” Sammy says, mainly to internalize it himself. “We’re still – us. It doesn’t matter.”

“Right,” Jack says firmly, and Sammy’s sure he imagines the quality of Jack’s voice that sounds disappointed.

They sit in silence for a moment before they both start laughing again, and this time they can’t stop. Sammy isn’t sure if it’s relief or exhaustion or to ease out the awkwardness, but it feels good.

“So, so wait,” Jack says as they catch their breaths again. “I’ve kind of just realized – I mean – you’re – you like…”

“What?” Sammy says, and then realizes. “Oh, you mean, I’m gay? Yeah. Is that….okay?”

Sammy doesn’t think he’s ever said those words before. He’s glad that he’s saying them to Jack. It feels good. Right. Like this was the only thing their friendship had been missing and now they had it and everything was going to be even better than it had been before.

“Dude, obviously,” Jack shakes his head affectionately. “I mean – I am, too, so…”

“So weird,” Sammy says, half under his breath and Jack smiles at him, soft and unguarded.

“Is it, though?” Jack says. “I mean, I don’t think it is. It’s like – oh. That kind of makes sense. The way we work. Makes more sense now. Maybe? I don’t know. I could be bullshitting.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Sammy says. “I mean –you’re – and I’m –”

They both break off laughing again, and Sammy feels like a weight has been lifted.

“So we’re good,” Jack says, like it’s not a question anymore.

Sammy smiles, relieved. “Yeah. We’re good.”

They meet eyes, and Jack seems so genuine, so lovely, and Sammy’s replayed the moment in his head a few times, what it was like to kiss Jack, and cursing his seventeen year old self for taking away something that –

That should be Sammy’s. That should be Sammy’s _now_. He should get to kiss Jack for the first time, not whoever he’d been at seventeen. That first kiss should be his. 

He tries to look away from Jack but realizes he’s not going to, that Jack’s gaze, wide and a little scared but always genuine, has him locked in place. He can’t even turn to look and see if there are any other cars in the parking lot. If anyone’s looking out their windows. If anyone would see....

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him.

They can take the one seven years ago back, decide it never happened. If Sammy leans in now, they can’t pretend. They can’t take it back.

“No, we can’t,” Jack says, his voice soft.

“Did I say that out loud?” Sammy asks, and Jack kisses him. It’s better than what Sammy has half-imagined since he met Jack. The first or second time. It barely matters which. He’s always wanted Jack, like this, just like this, from the moment he saw him.

The kiss lasts half a second. A second. Two seconds. More. Longer. 


End file.
